Silent Angel
by Lamanth
Summary: ONE SHOT – The sadness behind the smile, the warmth in the snow, the love in spite of pain. Silence is his friend but he would give anything to hear her voice once again. [KaiMimi]


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Beyblade or any of its characters, merchandise, TV rights, ect… (I think you get the point.)

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Summery 

ONE SHOT – Kai/Mimi. The sadness behind the smile, the warmth in the snow, the love in spite of pain. Silence is his friend but he would give anything to hear her voice once again. Like all of my work this is just something that happened to float through the empty void inside my head. Like it or hate it please R and R as honest opinions are always welcomed as are random acts of worship.

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Lamb: I was listening to a song and I suddenly remembered dancing in my garden while it snowed, and I think that's where this came from.

**Muse:** And I wish it had stayed there.

_Dedi:_ You can say what you like we're not bothered, right Lamb?

Lamb: Right! Spaceships. (giggles happily)

**Muse:** What? (looks very suspicious)

_Dedi:_ Inside joke. Anyway this fic is dedicated to **shadowphoenix101** cus she wanted to know where her old Lamb was, hope this satisfies you that she's alive and well. So **shadowphoenix101 **this is for you.

Lamb: As always sorry for any bad spelling and if you feel the need to through thing at me please wait until I've hidden behind the sofa kay!?

M**use: **On with the fic!

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_The silver thorn of bloody rose,  
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow,  
Now I think I know,  
What you tried to say to me,  
How you suffered for your sanity,

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**Silent Angel**

He blinks drowsily and trying to fight the force that threatens to pull him into full consensus reaches out for the figure that by all rights should have been lying next to him. Silently he curses as he focuses on the empty space beside him, his eyes are stinging from the early morning sunlight that is flowing into the room. Bright and cold reflected and enhanced by the snow that it bounces off of. A low growl of frustration escapes his throat as he slips from beneath the covers and makes his way to the window. Worry still fills him whenever she is gone form his side, the desire to keep and protect the silent angel still engraved deep in his subconscious. The hour is still to early for the heating to have come on and taken the chill from the air, yet still clad in only black silk boxers he seems oblivious to the goose bumps that have erupted on his flesh.

His forehead presses to the cold glass as he tries in vain to see her through the misted surface, slate bangs sticking to the damp surface while his breath fogs the window pain. The outline of her, a mass of aqua and gold standing out against the sheer white of the world around her, is all that he can discern. Pulling back he unlocks the window catch and pushes the wide, momentarily he is blinded by the swirling flakes that bight at his skin and stab at his eyes. In that fleeting moment yet again he wonders if he did the right thing in bringing her here. In picking her up from a place that was both known and familiar to her and placing her down in this cold harsh land. But though familiar her life before was in its own way harsh in many ways far more so than anything inflicted on her by natures ever changing moods. But perhaps to have stayed where there were people she knew cared for her would have been best. Had he been selfish to think that he could keep her safe and they could not? After all had he not already aloud her once to be taken from him, and was he not the sole reason the angel no longer sang.

Leaning out into the icy world he catches sight of her and knows that his decision was the right one, she belongs here. The snow and the silence are hers to command, a voiceless angel in a winter world. She turns slowly on the spot arms stretched wide head raised to the heavens. Soft flacks caught in her open palms melt, but the ones the land in azure hair settle and seem to flash in the early morning light. Her breath mists in the air, hanging like ghostly cobwebs before her face and still she spins on, vivid bangs bouncing round her head like a bright halo in the colourless world that surrounds her. Words form in his mouth, and he wishes to call down to her to tell her that she will freeze, but knows the she will only smile at him in response. The short cotton strap top and matching hot pants, would offer scares enough warmth in a summer morning but in the arctic winter the ice blue clothing she wares should leave her frozen to the touch, but it dose not.

The spinning stops and she is facing him, head lifted looking up to the open window where he stands. Her arms are still spread wide the snow melting almost the instant it makes contact with her warm honey skin, softly her head tilts to the side as she gazes up at him all wide hazel eyes. The warmth of a million sunlit days shines from with in the bright orbs and he wonders if this is what keeps the cold from her, the fact that she carries the summer with her where ever she goes. She is his opposite, warmth and sun where as his is icy cold, each of them was the half that made the other whole. A slow smile slides across her face, but somehow in spite of the action he feels the deep sadness that still dwells within her, and can see that behind the smile all is not as it seems. She lowers her eyes and the once again looks back to where he is outlined in the window. Sooner. He should have taken her away sooner.

Her arms fold inwards, her hands cupping the back of her head and her fingers curling through the damp strands of snow covered aqua. The half smile still tugs at her full mouth and she nibbles on the inside of her lower lip till she can taste the blood just below the surface. She gazes up watching him, entranced by the fire that seems to flicker in deep crimson pools that she feels could read the secrets written on her soul. The skin on his face is pale, pale and perfect, a stark contrast to the two blue shake fins tattooed on each high boned cheek, the meaning of which remains unknown to her. It is a face she could lose herself in, has lost herself in. At one time the image of his face, the look in his eyes when he brush hair from her cheek, soft smile that was for her and her alone, was the only thing that kept her mind from falling into the darkness that assaulted her from all sides. The pain of memory fills her and she can see the same emotions reflected to her in his dark liquid eyes.

Arms fall by her sides and offering him one last brief smile she turns and walks away from the house. No longer dancing through the falling whiteness but simply moving ghost like through the floating vale. Watching her move away he can make out the fading scares that mar the once flawless skin on her exposed lower back and rage and sorrow writhe within him. He is still unable to comprehend how anyone could inflict such violence on anything so innocent, an innocent who's only crime was to be close to him. she dose not blame him for what she was made to endure but he thinks he will forever blame himself for what happened to her. To hurt him they had hurt her, violated her soul and broken her body. When he had finally found her she was but a shell of what she had once been, the will to live seemed to have faded along with the voice that was stolen from her.

He pushes away from the window as the whiteness swallows her from his sight. Turning he makes his way through the door and hurries down the stairs to the back door which he knows will be unlocked. Stepping out into the frozen morning the snow crunches and compacts under his bear feet and he can see the footprints she has left on the virgin snow. Skeletal trees line the property and are scattered around the house, spider webs cling to their branches looking as they are made from spun glass. Born in this frigid land the extreme cold is something he has always know but yet again he is forced to wonder how an angel, who seemed to need the heat of the sun like other people need air, can be so oblivious to the cold. The grounds of the house are vast but he can see where she has gone, a set of footprints led round the side of the house to under their bedroom window but they are crossed by another set which head to the gardens to the rear of the house, and it is these that he follows.

Her back is to him, snow falling around her like fragments of lace, as she stares out over a world seemingly devoid of warmth her attention riveted by the frozen fountain that is set in the garden before her. The man made pond is a raised circle twenty meters in circumference the jet fountain set at its centre, but the water is frozen and solid enough to support her weight if she should chose to stand on it. There is something about the water turned into hard white ice and the fountain from which no water flows that causes tears to prick at the backs of her eyes. She remains unmoving as he approaches her, arms hanging by her sides and tears forming in her eyes and threatening to fall for reasons she can not explain. He slips his arms round her waist pulling her close, her feels skin is warm and soft against his chest that is cool as if it had been carved of marble. her head falls back resting on his shoulder, as she closes her eyes, blocking out the world till she can believe that there is nothing and no one but the two of them standing in the snow.

"Silent angel." He murmurs and bending his head forward he kisses the single tear the rolls down her cheek.

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Lamb: So what do you think?

**Muse:** Do you really want to know?

Lamb: Yes, but not from you. (Muse stalks off)

_Dedi:_ OK we're guessing there are questions which we will try and answer. Lamb thinks the people who hurt Mimi where Voltaire and/or Boris, and the did it simply to get at Kai or whatever reason you can think off. As for what they did we're not to clear on, we know they beat her as for sexual/mental abuse we can't say yes or no.

Lamb: Two things, please can no one complain about Mimi standing in the snow and not feeling cold, it dose happen just don't ask me how. Some people just feel the cold less that others, I'll walk round the yard in jeans and a strap top while it snows and everyone else is in 5 lairs. Also there are cases of Post Traumatic Stress that will leave people mute and I kinda liked the idea of a singer loosing her voice, I can be such a cruel bitch.

_Dedi:_ Yes you can but I still love you, Anything else you want to know just ask and as always please let us know what you thought and **shadowphoenix101** hope you liked it.

Please R and R I'd love to know what you thought.

Big luv see ya

Lamanth


End file.
